The clock on the wall ticked softly, each second echoing through the empty department store. Daniel sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. It was nearly midnight, and he was the only one left, tasked with closing up the store. The mannequins stood in their usual poses, their blank expressions facing the dimly lit aisles.
He had never liked them. Something about their rigid forms unsettled him. But tonight felt different. The air was heavier, the silence deeper. Shaking off the unease, Daniel walked to the back room to retrieve his jacket. When he returned, his breath hitched.
One of the mannequins had moved.
He blinked, convincing himself that exhaustion was playing tricks on him. The mannequin, a tall female figure dressed in a sleek black gown, had shifted slightly. Its head was tilted in his direction.
Daniel chuckled nervously. “Just my imagination.”
He turned off the lights. The store was plunged into darkness except for the faint glow of the exit sign. As he made his way toward the door, a faint tap echoed through the silence. Then another.
His stomach twisted. It sounded like footsteps.
Daniel froze. Slowly, he turned his head toward the mannequins. He could barely see their outlines in the dark. He took a cautious step forward and flipped the light switch back on.
His heart stopped.
The mannequins were in different positions.
The woman in the black dress was now inches closer, her hand slightly raised as if reaching for him. The others had subtly shifted, their heads tilted at unnatural angles.
Daniel backed away. “No. No, this isn’t real. I’m just tired.”
But then he saw it.
A single footprint. A perfect, dust-free mark on the polished floor.
And it wasn’t his.
He needed to leave. Now.
Daniel turned, moving quickly toward the exit. But as he reached for the door, a loud clatter echoed behind him. He spun around just in time to see one of the mannequins collapse onto the ground, limbs bending in ways plastic should not.
Then, slowly, it began to rise.
A scream caught in his throat as he stumbled backward. The mannequin moved with unnatural grace, its fingers twitching, its head snapping toward him with a sickening crack.
Then it took a step.
Daniel ran. Down the aisles, past the shelves and racks of clothing. He didn’t dare look back. He could hear them moving, the subtle click of plastic feet on tile. He darted into the break room, slamming the door shut and locking it. His breath came in short gasps.
“This isn’t happening,” he whispered. “It’s a prank. It has to be.”
A slow, deliberate knock tapped against the door.
Daniel clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a whimper.
Then the handle turned.
The lock held, but Daniel knew it wouldn’t for long. He had to think. His phone—where was his phone? His trembling hands patted his pockets. Nothing. He had left it at the front counter.
The tapping against the door grew more insistent. Then, silence.
He strained to hear. No movement. No footsteps.
Cautiously, he crept toward the door and pressed his ear against it.
Nothing.
Swallowing hard, he reached for the handle. Just a peek, he told himself. Just to see if the coast was clear.
He turned the knob slightly.
The lights flickered.
And a cold plastic hand clamped over his wrist.
Daniel screamed, yanking his arm back. The mannequin’s grip was ice-cold, its fingers unnaturally strong. He stumbled backward as it pushed through the doorway, its featureless face mere inches from his own.
Then it whispered.
“Stay. With. Us.”
Daniel’s vision swam. No, mannequins didn’t speak. They didn’t move.
He grabbed a chair and swung it, shattering the mannequin’s arm. It staggered back, giving him just enough time to sprint past it. He ran for the front counter, nearly slipping as he reached for his phone.
No signal.
The mannequins were coming.
He had one chance.
Daniel sprinted toward the emergency exit, his heart pounding. He shoved the bar, but the door didn’t budge. It was jammed.
A reflection caught his eye. The store’s security mirror above the register. In it, he saw them.
Mannequins creeping closer, their bodies twitching with unnatural jerks. And in the center stood the one in the black dress, her head tilted as if amused.
He turned, ready to fight—
But the store was empty.
The mannequins were back in their original places.
Still.
Unmoving.
Daniel’s breath came in ragged gasps. Had he imagined it all? Had exhaustion warped his mind?
His phone buzzed. A single message from an unknown number.
“See you tomorrow night.”
Daniel dropped the phone.
And behind him, the mannequin in the black dress turned its head.
Daniel quit his job the next day. But every night, as he tried to sleep, he swore he could hear them.
The sound of plastic feet tapping against the floor.
Waiting.
